I’ve got to admit that it wasn’t the pop stardom, the (dirty) girl next door looks, or the amazing rack that made me fall for this exquisite example of how there might just be a god…  It was her personality.  Yes, you heard me.  A comment usually reserved for fat girls or girls with unsightly deformities, but  in this case, it’s what put me over the top.

At first I wasn’t blown away by her looks, and definitely not by her “talent”.  But then I caught a couple of interviews with her and she sounded fun.  Not in the “I’m Lindsay Lohan I’m going to do blow and blow everyone” kinda way, but in a witty banter, has to be intelligent to be so quick way.  I was instantly enthralled with her as a whole person.  I know, I know, what’s gotten into me?

I’ll tell you what, I had a long weekend for of vapid vessel with ridiculous beauty and every once in a while you want a little jelly in you donut.  I mean glazed is good, but after so long it only leaves you longing for something more!  I’ll get back to looking only at the shell soon enough, but for now, she’s a “whole package” that I’ve never seen before!

And as for Russel Brand, that strange English… person?  You win this round…  It’s only because I heard you hit on a 89 year old during a live radio broadcast that I condone this meeting and stealing of such perfection.  Know that I’ll be watching you!  One slip up and… I’ll still not be anywhere near getting Katy Perry for myself!  So there!

To Katy, if things with Russel don’t work out, or he dies, and you find yourself wearing a hat similar to the one in the picture above, fell free to shoot me an email and maybe we could meet up for a coffee and some lesbo kissing action.  Let me know ahead of time if I need to supply my own Lesbian!

Let me list some examples, and I hope you enjoy, or at least ponder them before judging me!

-I hate when girls pee in the shower, it’s a normal occurrence, but usually the water’s on!

-If men Jack-off, then do women Jill-off?

-I love that the driver’s side of the car is the one that controls the window lock mechanism… especially after Mexican food!

-Fat girls need loving too, and I have ugly friends that can help them with that.

-Fake tits are like leather seats, you don’t need them, but people would enjoy riding more!

-Yes, your face is up there, but your tits are so much nicer to look at!

-If we’re on a date, and you’re not feeling me, let me know so I don’t splurge on dinner, or it’s only fair that I get to splurge on you later to offset the cost!

-Yes, that is a video camera, and no, I will not be turning it off…

-Old people should be able to drive their age, if you’re 90 do 90, then when you hit the wall and die, I won’t have to worry about you merging into and messing up rush hour.

-Are Walmart greeters there to remind patrons that inbreeding is bad or the value of a good floss?  If so, it’s working, cause I now go to Target!

Disgusted?

Well you shouldn’t be, especially if you’re a girl, because ladies, let me let you in on a little secret.  All men think like this, and to be honest, if we find a girl that thinks similar, it usually makes for a good time!  Male or Female it doesn’t matter, no one is perfect, and everyone is twisted in their own way.  I’m a big believer of saying what’s on your mind no matter who you offend.  Most people are offended simply because they are naive or close minded, and most of my comments or thoughts come from taking everyday occurrences and reversing them in my head, which usually leads to a giggle.

If you’re easily offended, you shouldn’t be here, and if you’re just at dinner for the free meal, well I hope you leave room for dessert!

Obligations, we all have them, most if not all are unwanted or else we wouldn’t  have used that word to describe them.  We’d use terms like, “can’t waits” or “hell yeahs” to describe things we wanted to do.  But some obligations are down right infuriating.  Obligations like court dates, Saturday shopping trips with the girlfriend, or tipping the guy or girl at Soup or Salad chains.

This drives me insane, I pay for my meal up front, I collect the utterly flavorless greens in a bowl, I put the toppings and dressings on, I then traverse the maze of table tops over to the bland reservoirs of so called soup only to spill said soup on my flesh painfully searing in the lack of flavor,  on the way back through the table top labyrinth, to arrive at my table… parched.  And here’s the rub, at this point after being allowed to pour my own lava and forage for my own greens I then find out that Soup or Salad finds me too incompetent to work a soda fountain.  As if, during the process of filling my glass I might have a brain lapse and forget to pull away the glass as the beverage nears the top of the cup.  Therefore creating an overflow of carbonated beverage that if left unattended could rival the devastation of hurricane Katrina!

So instead of entrusting my college educated self with this mindless task, they feel the need to pay a staff member to simply walk to a fro filling the mindless patron’s glasses with carbonated goodness.  And for this extravagant luxury you are supposed to tip this person as if they took, prepared, retrieved, and presented your order like in one of those fancy restaurants!  This person is no more than a glorified bus boy!

Don’t get me wrong, I know they serve a purpose, and for that should be compensated, but the one time I partook in Soup or Salad, I was so annoyed by the food, layout, and idea of the entire chain that when it came time for the bill and my friend requested I throw in on the “tip”… well, let’s just say that I felt that I worked for the Federal Government delivering envelopes and packages to the great people of this country!

So, to you Soup or Salad, let it be known that you have gained a spot on my list and that I’m not only angry at you, but anyone who considers you a good suggestion for a place to imbibe fiber!

That being said…

This one is stunning, and let’s see, it almost makes me want to start watching house since I just found out tonight that this is the reason she’s famous, but then again, probably not.  I’ll be too busy listening to Gordon Ramsey call people cows to actually watch a series, not to mention I think the guy from “House” should go back to England and “The Balck Adder”, yeah that’s right, I know sophisticated comedy!

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure there are plenty of you that watch “House” for the amazing writing and storytelling, but I’ll be honest, I would watch it the same way I would watch “Jennifer’s Body”, with my iPod on and a Playboy on my lap.  I’m only saying that because I’m so not into Dr. show’s, though I do make reference to them because the ladies seem to love them, that I rather Get the Q-tip up the pee hole then waste an hour of my day on medi-dramas.

Much like NPR is un-listenable radio, a bunch of people pretending to be Dr’s is something I can’t subscribe to.  But I’ve strayed away from the focus of Olivia Wilde being an insanely beautiful women!  I’d be happy to take her temperature, and don’t worry Olivia, I brought my own personal thermometer!

I mean come on, she even looks amazing as a blond!  If you could convince her to switch back and forth from time to time, it would be like the thrill of cheating without the worry of getting a gift that keeps on giving… you itchy undies!

Oh, Olivia Wilde, to you I say, congrats!  Good job on doing nothing of major importance in life other than being blessed with good genes!  It’s a tough row to hoe, but I have faith in you, and your tank top collection!  PS, we here at DMTS wouldn’t need more than a beer!

The reason I ask is that the human brain does an amazing job at blocking out noise, aside from the voices in my head.  Honestly, the next time you’re in the car, or the office, or the grocery store.  Stop, close your eyes and listen to the hum of the road, the AC vent, or the heavy breathing of the 300lb lady beside you in the cereal isle on the complementary Jazzy Scooter provided by the store.  (Maybe a lap around the store on your own two tree trunks might be a good start to a healthy life, oh hell, you can even eat those 6 Kudos bars you have tucked under your back fat roll cause you’re trying a new diet!  You have to start somewhere.  Baby steps… please so product doesn’t fall off the shelf you monolith of laziness.)

Where was I?  Oh, yes, sound.  There are many sounds in this world that are, although annoying, easily blocked by the subconscious because they only have meaning to a certain person or group and the rest of us need not worry.  But to that, I’ve found there is one sound that, above all others, drives me insane, to the point that I want to de-scale adolescent salmon… punch babies and club seals are so over used, I thought I might try and start a new trend.  Either way, that sound, the sound that puts me on the edge is… can you guess?  Here’s a hint, it has to do with miniature human beings, some call them children, others go as far as using the term baby, I say they are tiny representations of two peoples lack of consideration for the planet.

If you guessed a baby crying, you would be…wrong.  Laughter, yes, children’s laughter is the scourge, nay, the bane of my existence.  I don’t quite know why, maybe the sound ties to nightmares I have about myself and my (formerly hot now that she’s pissed out a kid) girl dreaming of quite times together, or romantic trips, or actually getting a second to have and enjoy sex in-between feeding and pooping.  Or maybe it’s my motorcycle vaporizing only to be replaced by a bassinette… lame.  Or the simple fact that it means I would have to grow up only to watch them grow up and suck the rest of my miserable existence dry.  Either way, I know what hell on earth is… being trapped in a Chucky Cheese on free token and pizza night!  FREEDOM!!!

To all of the hard working parents who are proud of their little creations, good job on murdering your freedom.  You now live and work for someone else.  You no longer have control of you destiny, you are now trying to steer a sinking ship into safe harbor, only to find that after years of blood, sweat, and tears, that the boat moves back into your basement, jobless, sail-less, and useless… to bleed all hopes of enjoying the last few years of your life and retirement with your wife that you hate and don’t screw anymore only to die knowing that by pulling out 32 years ago you could have died on a huge ass yacht.  That is if you’re anywhere near what some people would call a “good parent”.

I’m buying earplugs, and to those who want to venture into parenthood… I bid you dumbasses!

I know you’re excited, but don’t hurt yourself, just grab some popcorn and your sense of humor and get ready for the show.  I will worn you though, I’m a little rusty, but I know you’re not too worried!

So, I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t at least comment on the biggest news story of the decade… yes, I’m talking about the sad truth that the entire world has been coping with and that seems, if only for a moment, has brought the world together in harmony…  I’m talking about, you guess it, Billy Mays, just kidding, Mr Michael Jackson.  Here is what I will say, he will be missed, but the fact that Heidi and Spencer are no longer all over my cable box makes me almost celebrate the passing of a great… big ball of crazy.  Either way, I owe him some respect for giving my brain a vacation from the vapid duo.  And the charges were dismissed; we’ll leave it at that…

What makes a celebrity, and why do people care?  Oh, don’t get me wrong, I, like you, wondered for a while what crazy bald Brittany was packing under her Ed Hardy T-shirt,that case of Keystone Light, and faded Vikki’s bra as much as the next guy with high speed internet and some free time.  But, who determines celebrity?  Why is Paris Hilton famous?  Why do the Kardaians have a slot on television, and why has no one realized that Spencer was apparently really good at dodging hangers?  (Yes, that is a back alley abortion reference, deal with it!)

I just don’t get it, is it an escape from your everyday life, a dream to be in the spot light that makes you fawn after such plastic individuals?  We really do enjoy watching other people’s pain.  All I know is that TV, and in particular shows like TMZ suck the smart right out of you… but then again, if I didn’t watch what would I have to rant about.

First shot back, it’s a warm up, feeling a little groggy trying to shake the dust off!

Yes it’s the holiday season, and it’s just a slingshot ride past Halloween because before you even get the skulls off the front door, Tom Turkey has been cannibalized and we’re sliding into Santa’s home base.  Not the North Pole, oh no, or even a family members den to enjoy some time with loved ones by a warm fire.  I mean Best Buy, and Target, Banana and Viki’s, Express,  Wet Seal, Hallmark and Pac Sun, but if you recall this is the most notorious season of all…  The Christmas shopping season!

Tis the season to be crazy!  What happens to people during Christmas?  Ladies and gentleman, a man was TRAMPLED TO DEATH at a Walmart this year!  And, AND they kept the store open!  “Clean up on isle 3!”  I don’t get why our U.S. consumerism consumes so completely at this time of year, why people care even less for others then they do the rest of the year.  How parents can teach their children that it’s OK to disregard humanity as long as you get yours.

This time of year disgusts me!  Ba Humbug you all may be saying.  But truly, if you were to open your eyes to all the movies and commercials, they play to your charity not your selfish hording ways.  A purse that cost $2600 is ridiculous to me.  By all means if you can afford it, that’s amazing, good for you!  But, that’s a week in Europe, or a trip to an amazing island, or better yet, that’s an entire wing of an orphanage’s worth of presents!  To give doesn’t mean just to your family, it means to the community, to the less fortunate, to the needy, and to your fellow man.

A MAN WAS TRAMPLED TO DEATH AT WALMART!  TWO MEN SHOT EACH OTHER TO DEATH IN A DEPARTMENT STORE!  Other than sharing bullets, I don’t think they got the true meaning of the season!

I have to put it to Jewish and other non-Christian denominations, not only do you not have to deal with the stupid ass sweaters, you get the best deals after the 25th and an empty movie theater to enjoy on top of it!  I’m converting!  Actually I’m not religious so it doesn’t really matter but I try every year to get my family to give presents the 2nd of January… everything we bought is 60% off… if it’s not the gift, it’s the thought, then why does it matter when you get it!

To all you crazies frantically running through the malls, take a breath, look into the eyes of your fellow man, and say “happy holidays to you and yours!”  This time, let’s try to mean it!

…a man was stomped to death at Walmart!  What’s next “Trample me Elmo?”

I am personally happy for Barack and wish him well, but this is more of a general message for the American public. Government doesn’t make your life, you do.  Government keeps the lights on, the roads paved, and school doors open to educate your children but it will not make or break you.  It may tax you but rise above.  It may test you but rise above.  It my frustrate but rise above.

You live in the land of the “Self Made Man” therefore complaining about how you can’t get a break is not an option.  IF you fail; learn, adjust, and try again.  This truly is the land of opportunity, but it only knocks for those who are searching for it.  NOT those who are waiting for it to arrive. So, get up, hold your head high and get a move on.

A few tips for you:

1- Stay Positive, like Barack Obama you should always stay positive.  There will be down times but just remember that they can’t last forever and channel that energy into forward motion.

2- Keep you motivation around you.  If you want to own a certain car, home, piece of electronics, toy… keep an image around you.  At your office, at your home, in your car.  Seeing that image will remind you what you are working towards, and in the times where you are about to falter, it will help bring you back to the path needed to obtain your goal.

3- Be random.  The more randomness, possibilities, and people you bring into your life, the more doors you open.  Like the goldfish, you can never grow if you stay in the same bowl.

Now, quit you bitching, get out there and do something constructive, not only for yourself but you country and the world!   …can anyone tell me why I suddenly what a Guiness?

Back to the point, women, especially the later 20 / early 30 somethings who have been recently separated after long relationships, are always looking for “The One” to settle down with.  I consider them lazy.  They don’t want to jump back into the dating game and they damn sure don’t want to change.  By this time in their lives they are way too comfortable with their personal brand of crazy and bon bon’s.  So, instead of making an effort to find a guy that will treat them the way they should be treated, they pick up their “extra baggage” or, as I like to call it, “carry on… for the rest of your life” and suck in the first poor schmuck they can control.  To that guy… shame on you!  You’ve given up too!  What happened to the hunter gatherer in you?  Oh, I know, he died with the rest of your dreams when you didn’t get middle management and were forced back to your cage… I mean cube, like a tiger back to it’s cage after his 7:30 performance.  Enjoy the Viagra, but I digress.  Ladies this one’s for you, a guide to a few reasons that you’ll never be, at least in a real man’s eyes, “The One.”

Furry Ninjas

Now don’t get me wrong, all guys love man’s best friend.  I mean, they are called man’s best friend for a reason, but there are boundaries and you’re in trouble if you cross either of them.

• You own more than one cat

Aside from being too young to be a cat lady, if I come to your place and it smells like cat piss and tuna and is patrolled by a squad of furry anti-human ninjas… game over.

• You own a dog smaller than a spare tire

Or as I like to call them “purse puppies” — that’s bad news.  If I ever meet you out somewhere or pick you up and a head of a little dog pops out of your purse without a cigar in it’s mouth and a plethora of insults to hurl at me in a scratchy and crappy accent, you might as well see if it will pay for you dinner and sleep with you, because I certainly will not.

Illegal Immigration

This is not what you think.  It’s less about being in this country without proper documentation and more about the fact that when you go down on me you rake more than Julio my gardener.  Look, it’s pretty simple, you are not the owl, my junk is not a Tootsie Pop, and it takes more than three licks to get to my candy filled center so keep the chompers at bay.

*corollary to Illegal Immigration. . .

If you go down so infrequently that there is no way you could be an immigrant because they work too damn hard to be that lazy, we will also have a problem.  In all honesty, the way to a man’s heart or, better yet, his wallet, is through his zipper not his stomach.

Ping Pong

Don’t lay land mines.  If you need drama to survive, watch daytime TV.  Don’t create traps for me to fall into just so you can get a fix.  Don’t ask me who that was on the phone.  Don’t take me to a restaurant that you want to try, hate it, and blame me for going there.  Don’t talk about being spontaneous and then hate the hotel, motel, or tent for that matter.  Men only like Ping Pong if they can hold a paddle and a beer, not an argument.

There are many more subtleties for falling into the real man’s “The One” consideration pool, but if you avoid these three you’ll have a head start over your competition.  And believe me, there is plenty of it out there.